Vigne
by Lapis Love
Summary: Series of one shots featuring our favorite witch who may at times be only human, or something else while she weaves her charisma around increasing her harem one ship at a time. So expect, Bamon/Stefonnie/Klonnie/Bonlijah/Kennett/Boncel/Benzo/Tonnie/Monnie and a few crossover surprises.
1. Stefonnie-Running Lines

**A/N: Hi, I'm sure you're raging, why is she starting yet another story when she has so many unfinished ones. Let me explain. I have a lot of stories in my head that can be multi-chapter fics, but I sort of lack the motivation to carry them out from start to finish. So I've decided to just write a series of one-shots featuring all my favorite Bonnie pairings as they come to me. Some may follow canon, others will be AU, some AU/AH, and I might even do some crossovers. I'll let you know beforehand. **

**The first one is Stefonnie and its **_**way**_** AU/AH. I had written it for Stefonnie Appreciation Week but didn't like it. So I'm brushing it off and putting it out there. This might be the only one-shot I'm breaking up into two parts because I do have more written but these are just the first 9 pages. I need to finish the conclusion. **

**To give a brief summary: Bonnie and Stefan are actors on a show called The Doppelganger Diaries, and they're running lines...and running lines. Just read to see what happens. No kink. Not yet. **

Disclaimer: These characters are the creative property of LJ Smith and The CW. No copyright infringement is intended.

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He had to read it again. And the second time he did made no more sense than the first time his eyes scanned the words. Perhaps if he squinted that might improve the writing on the page, or maybe if he held the script further away, or perchance he could translate it into another language? No. It was no use. It was official now. He was on the crappiest show in the history of American television! This being only the third season out of six he was condemned to this hell for another three years.

Slapping the script on his crossed legs, Stefan Salvatore ran a hand over his face before pinching the bridge of his nose. Using the breathing exercises his expensive ass therapist taught him, he inhaled deeply through his nostrils before pushing the air between his lips, lips that were seconds away from curling in a grimace before revealing his naturally long incisor teeth. He had been teased about his "fangs" back in elementary and junior high school. Had been the butt of countless Count Dracula jokes, and people wondering if Nosfertau was a distant relative. As soon as he entered high school, though, his luck with the ladies changed and there was never any shortage of women who found his canines, hot. Plenty of girls, especially around Halloween literally wanted him to take a bite and eat them. Stefan being a slave to obligation felt it had been his civic duty to carry out such orders.

But alas, high school was over, college was a wrap, and he was an actor now struggling in the sense to make the most out of an unforeseen situation. Stefan would never look at his blessing like a curse though it was slowly turning into one. Being on a show that catered to one of the most popular genres and lore that had been revived in the last couple of years meant he'd have to deal with the endless comparisons to sugary sweet, family friendly movies that humanized the undead and made mortality seem like a death sentence rather than a gift. Cursed was he to play the anti-hero in love with a special snowflake danger magnet competing with his brother for her affection and the ownership of her panties.

He sighed again and thought not for the first time if he should have declined this role and gone with the other where he could have portrayed a rookie cop toeing the line of enforcing the law or cheating the system.

The other show had since been canceled due to poor ratings. So Stefan used that as motivation every single morning he dragged himself out of bed in his rented high rise apartment in the suburbs of Virginia where his show based off a 5-part book series aptly titled _The Doppelganger Diaries _was being filmed. He was twenty-eight fucking years old playing Jason Stark, a nineteen year old clone of his super genius great-grandfather whom his character just discovered was a doppelganger that was in love with his girlfriend's doppelganger; so in some weird way he and his girlfriend may be related. Complete and total bullshit, Stefan thought.

Yes, he could bemoan the terrible plot and the melodrama of the show but it afforded him a comfortable lifestyle, stylish perks in the form of an overflowing bank account, free admission into concerts and the hottest nightclubs around the globe, dates with some of the most beautiful women in the entertainment business, and having his entire wardrobe provided by the fashion designer he was now the face of.

Stefan wasn't exactly immune to the rush he got at attending conventions and seeing fans wearing shirts with his face, screaming his name and vying for his attention. Hands reaching out to make some kind of contact with him, girls in hysterics willing to sell their mothers for just five minutes of his time. That small bit made the job bearable yet at the end of the day Stefan wanted what every actor wanted. Critical acclaim and to be seen as a serious actor in the eyes of his peers. Stefan was apt enough to realize that would never happen so long as he remained on a show that lacked originality and merely borrowed the story lines of other cult shows without even attempting to add a more creative spin to what had been done before.

His job was simple: act. That's all he was being paid for, unfortunately. Not to think. Not to worry about fan reaction to upcoming story lines that he _knew _they were going to despise. Stefan was to say his lines with as much or as little emotion as the scene called for, say "thank you" and "please" and to clear the set as soon as he wrapped.

Rising from his chair located in his trailer, Stefan placed the script on the make up counter and then looked at his reflection.

Many had described him as having Roman-Greco features and he did posses those: deep set leaf green eyes that sometimes appeared gray in direct sunlight under thick dark brown eyebrows, aquiline nose, proud jaw line which was probably his best feature, under a crown of bronze and auburn hair. Sure enough it was his near perfect symmetrical face that landed him the role. That and his six-pack he was basically asked to show before he even uttered a single line in the monologue he had studied and memorized.

Stefan remembered feeling the breakfast he consumed that morning was about to make a flamboyant appearance as soon as he walked into the room filled with executive producers and writers. But he tramped down his mounting anxiety and got through the audition without humiliating himself. Leaving with sweaty palms, the next forty-eight hours of his life had been exhausting and ulcer inducing as he waited to hear from his agent if he had gotten the part or not. For months he had been slumming on his best friend Lexi Branson's couch and he could hear the exasperation in her voice every time she returned home from work to see he hadn't moved from the position she had left him in eight hours before.

ATM's laughed whenever he strolled by one, and his father didn't offer any help or support with his finances. Stefan was a literal starving artist so this job couldn't have come at a more desperate time in his life.

Once he received the call, signed his contract, Stefan should have known that he had also sold a small piece of his soul away. He couldn't recognize it before because the euphoria of being selected to play such a beloved character in the young adult supernatural genre blinded him, but he had set himself up to talk about this disgrace of a show for the next ten plus years of his life. Prayerfully when it was all said and done he'd have some street cred left.

There was a knock on his trailer door breaking him from his thoughts. Clearing his throat and running his tongue over his bottom lip, Stefan bellowed:

"Come in."

The door opened and his entire face instantly lit up as his eyes took in the elfin female who walked up the short flight of steps into his trailer closing the door behind her entry. Vanilla assaulted his nostrils and Stefan took in as much of her clean scent as possible. She was already dressed in her wardrobe for the scene they were about to shoot, and Stefan noticed she held her script, Samsung Galaxy, and an herbal tea bottle in her hands. She came to rehearse and run lines.

"Hey, you busy?" she asked in a cheery voice with a beguiling smile.

Stefan shook his head and then motioned toward the leather couch that was propped up against a wall. "No, unfortunately I'm the opposite of busy. I'm guessing you're here not to gossip but to deal with the latest script change?"

Viridian eyes rolled and dainty shoulders shrugged. "This show never lacks surprises, I'll give it that much. What do you think about the latest development? It's the best, amirite?" the sarcasm was heavy in the air.

Stefan snorted, picked up his script and then he and his co-star had a seat on the leather couch, facing one another.

He didn't pay any mind to the fact his heart was beginning to race just a little behind his sternum at the sight of Bonnie Bennett probably the hottest and one of the sweetest actresses he ever had the fortune of working with. Growing up Stefan prided himself on having a type: olive-skinned, tall, with dark eyes. Bonnie didn't meet that exact mold but she was beautiful with sienna brown skin, a heart shaped face with bright and curious malachite eyes, and a crooked mouth in the shape of Cupid's bow. A mouth he went to bed every single night dreaming about the day he would finally get to taste with his own.

He cleared his throat and shifted against the couch when he noticed that his dark jeans were getting a little tight and uncomfortable around the crotch area. It didn't help matters that Bonnie was dressed in an itty bitty skirt that left those toned legs of her exposed, manicured toes painted a metallic green winking at him in a pair of strappy sandals. Thankfully the camisole top she was wearing came with a knit cardigan offering a modicum of modesty.

Bonnie was one of the first people Stefan instantly connected with. She too had been another starving actress and had done some bit parts in B movies that went straight to DVD release. But where he had to rely on the charity of his close friend, Bonnie had her mother and father that supported her and her dream though she often complained they weren't as tight knit as her folks would like to appear. They thought she was wasting her time with acting, never thought she'd make a lucrative enough living to survive for more than a couple of months at a time. So landing the role of psychic Cataleya Reinfeld had been a big middle finger to her disbelieving parentals.

Though their characters were close in the books it was not translating on film. In fact Jason was a downright asshole toward Cataleya which sometimes made going into work painful for Stefan because, and he tried to fight it as best he could, but unable to help or stop himself at this point, he was falling in love with Bonnie.

He couldn't even pinpoint when it started to happen, when things started to unravel. He just remembered walking into the room for their first read through and their eyes locking. Bonnie had been one the first cast members to arrive that day and he remembered every small detail about her, down to the jewelry she had worn. Within minutes a kinship and intimacy had been born between them as they found out they shared similar backgrounds and experiences, though there was plenty of things they didn't have in common. If he had to name someone as his best friend on set, Bonnie was in the top spot.

Stefan tried as best he could to keep his feelings under wraps. Especially when it became obvious that Bonnie and their other co-star Kol Mikaelson were getting closer. The day he found out about their relationship was the morning he was eating Fruity Pebbles and was perusing one of Lexi's tabloid magazines and came across a puff piece on Bonnie being seen leaving a restaurant with Kol in tow. That wouldn't have been cause for his blood pressure to skyrocket the way it did until he saw the other photos of them one) holding hands and then two) sharing a quick kiss before the paparazzi decided to stop following them. The show had yet to take off then and since they played supporting characters they weren't important enough to stalk—yet.

With prickly clarity Stefan remembered going into work the following day and the rest of that week feeling sick to the stomach. Bonnie with her mother hen-ish ways tried to get him to talk, and open up about what was going on with him since he had taken to snapping at any and everyone who so much as dared to breathe the same air as him. Stefan had shut her down and shut her out. He needed time to figure out why he wanted to strangle Kol every time he saw him.

To his utter joy, months later, Bonnie and Kol amicably ended their relationship. Down side, Bonnie confessed to him she had no interest in dating anyone else for a while, and viewed the rest of the guys on set as her brothers. Stefan felt that fate was worse than being friendzoned.

When he looked at her, brotherly thoughts were the last thing traipsing through his mind. She was poetry in motion, enticing to the senses and what made everything equally frustrating and astounding was the fact Bonnie was completely ignorant of the pull she had over the male species. Bonnie was quiet and determined but when she spoke people listened, and when she laughed it made you smile. But lately she had been going through the ringer as her father was recently diagnosed with prostate cancer, and Stefan did everything in his power to be there for her.

So it was both heaven and hell sitting this close to Bonnie and knowing he had to keep his hands to himself. She viewed him as a brother and he knew if he wanted anything more with Bonnie, he'd have to bide his time and wait for her to make the first move. He just didn't have confidence enough that time would ever come.

Interrupting his own reverie, Stefan flipped through the pages of the script until he arrived at their scene. They had five pages of dialogue to cover and most of it was Jason being a stereotypical, entitled and privileged dick—his alter ego since his brain had been tampered with by his great-grandfather's rival Maximilian von Rasputin, which was a ridiculous name in Stefan's opinion but played by Kol's older, real life brother Klaus Mikaelson. This was also a show that had no such qualms about hiring family members. Stefan's own brother Damon sometimes had a guest spot on the show playing an alcoholic, womanizing ghost hunter who could never seem to stay out of trouble.

Finding his spot in the script, Stefan pressed his lips together and then had a thought. He turned to face Bonnie who had been busy texting while he mentally prepared himself. Boldly, Stefan reached over and plucked her electronic gateway out of her hands and stuffed it between the cushions of the couch.

"Seriously, Stefan," Bonnie deadpanned crooking her finger. "Give me back my phone."

"You'll get it back when we're done. We need to get in character, Bonnie and that phone was keeping you preoccupied." Pause. "I want to try something."

Sighing heavily, Bonnie said, "What?"

"We pretty much know how to play off one another and this scene between Jason and Cataleya is no different than the hundred other scenes we've filmed. Your character is being unnecessarily, but rightfully judgmental and Jason is tired of hearing her mouth so he's inexcusably rude to her. Cataleya tries to get through to him, and Jason rewards her efforts by threatening her life. End Scene. I want to skip to the end where Jason and Demi are having their moment."

Bonnie gulped. She knew which scene Stefan was talking about since she read it this morning, and felt it was the only decent part of the script. Demi was Jason's girlfriend though the couple was going through a rough patch at the moment. But in the scene Jason finally sees through the lies that had been implanted in his head that Demi never betrayed him with his brother. At least not yet, but everyone knew it was coming since Demi and Jason's brother Owen were getting far too close for comfort.

Uncertainly reign supreme on Bonnie's face from what Stefan could tell. "Shouldn't you rehearse that with Elena?" she questioned and nibbled a corner of her lip.

Stefan knew that's what he should be doing since Elena Gilbert played the girl his character loved. But again, they had an established chemistry where it would take next to nothing to convey the tone of the scene and execute it flawlessly.

He slid a little closer to Bonnie who thankfully didn't shift on the couch to place more space between them. Stefan could see her pupils dilate and he wondered what she might be thinking; that maybe he was trying to reenact the horror stories of the casting couch where directors sometimes overstepped boundaries and made moves on gullible actors and actresses that were willing to do whatever to took to make it in Hollywood.

That thought made him cease all movement and add a smile to his face to erase any mounting suspicion Bonnie might be having.

They were close and knew a great deal about one another; however, they didn't know _everything _about each other and Stefan had to constantly remind himself not to give too much away. If he couldn't be anything more than friends with Bonnie he knew he'd have to teach himself to accept it. But there were some days where she gave off mixed signals or the impression that she might be tempted to the dark side. It was never anything explicit or overt, but just that she'd sometimes linger by his side while they waited for the crew to set up the next shot, constantly coming to him for advice, or insisting they sit next to each other at craft services—her thigh sometimes touching his, or she'd deliver that shy half smile when nothing was being said between them.

In the grand scheme of things, Stefan knew those actions mounted to nothing more than friendship to Bonnie. Nevertheless, a man could dream.

"I could rehearse that with Elena but she's being dolled up to play her doppelganger Katherine. I just wanted to attack the scene from another angle," Stefan said. "Please?" he tacked on making sure to deliver his best heart melting puppy dog eyes.

The second he saw Bonnie's shoulders slump he knew he had gotten his way. Bonnie very rarely told him no.

"All right," she said trying her best to sound put off. "We'll run through the scene but only once and then we need to go over _our _lines. Agreed?"

Stefan tossed his head back like a servant at an imperial court. "You know I'm at your service, ma'am," he rose from the couch and then offered his hand toward Bonnie. The minute their skin connected that uncanny rush and spark careened through him to which he expertly ignored, and pulled Bonnie to her feet.

Each of them began to pace, eyes flying over the lines, and when they were ready they faced each other.

Bonnie opened up the dialogue. "I knew I'd find you here."

Stefan presented his most brooding face, "I want to be alone."

"Typically when people say that they mean the opposite. Jason…I don't want to keep pushing you, but…"

"Why are you here, Demi?" he cut her off. "Why is it so hard for you to get it through your _thick skull_ that whatever you and I had I don't remember and I don't want to remember because if what Celeste said is true, my past is filled with nothing but pain…" Stefan stopped. "This is what I'm having trouble with."

Bonnie blinked, officially out of the moment. "Having trouble with what?"

Stefan braced his hands on his hips and cleared the space between him and Bonnie. He reached up and cupped her cheek, trailed his thumb along her jaw line, and stared unblinkingly into her eyes. A divot formed between her brows but then melted and reappeared within seconds.

"Why Jason is so quick to believe everything Celeste tells him but not the woman he loves? Though he can't remember everything, feelings leave impressions and he has to _feel_ something when he's alone with Demi, but it's like she's acid to him. Things were good between Jason and Demi and in my opinion I feel the writers are trying to beef up the angst in the wrong way."

"So," Bonnie coughed to remove the dry lump in her throat. "What would you do to change it?"

Tilting his head a little to the side, Stefan looked away for a moment but hadn't removed his hand from Bonnie's face. After a considerable pause he refocused his attention on her once more. The color of his eyes deepening to emerald.

"I'd look at the woman I love and I'd tell her, 'There's something about you that I just can't shake even if everything in me and around me is telling me we don't belong together. But I feel it here," he picked up Bonnie's hand and placed it directly over his heart, and lowered his voice. "Something is in there that won't budge and I don't think it ever will, and if I'm being honest, I don't want it to. It makes me feel alive, attached to the earth, weightless. And I know you feel it, too. I want to find out what it is. Will you help me…Bon…Demi?"

Bonnie stared at Stefan stupidly. Being a method actor she knew he was merely improvising, but something about this felt like more than just taking liberties with his own character.

She attempted to say something, _anything _but it was like her brain at that moment decided to take a hike. Unexpectedly, Bonnie's skin began to tingle and she literally could hear her heart beating. She never had this kind of reaction toward Stefan before, not even while they filmed a scene and he was half naked for a majority of it. Though it was oftentimes difficult getting there mentally in a room full of people, now they were alone and she was on the receiving end of something she couldn't name or put a finger on, but it was powerful and pleasantly shocking. Her cheeks burned and she was tempted to rupture the spell by looking away from the net cast within Stefan's gaze, but she was immobilized.

Knowing that she should just go with the flow, Bonnie nodded as she imagined Demi Lambert—the girl in love with brothers—would.

"That's all I've ever wanted to do, Jace was help you."

"I know the best place to start."

"Where?"

"Here," Stefan lowered his head while tilting Bonnie's chin up and slanting his mouth over hers.

The first contact was like seeing a shooting star or a meteor shower—a one of the kind event that you'd remember well into your golden years. She tasted sweet like the lemon flavored tea she had been drinking, and her lips were decadently pliant and supple as they molded against his. Stefan wanted to take his time though the base part of himself wanted to ravish her. The kiss, like the words he just spoke was spur of the moment, unscripted much like his personal life, and with what control he possessed he tasted Bonnie's mouth as if he had just bitten into a juicy, ripe melon.

Bonnie had no idea what to do with her hands and was vaguely aware that they had balled Stefan's flannel shirt into a fist. Being that he was significantly taller than her, she stood on her toes to deepen the kiss that was slowly sparking her arousal, cooking up her insides. Somewhere in the back of her mind, Bonnie should have yelled "cut" after the immediate press of his lips on hers, but she went with it and now she was drowning. Rescue came in the form of an artful tongue that gently prodded the opening of her mouth to which Bonnie eagerly welcomed inside. Inadvertently she groaned as her tongue teasingly slid over Stefan's and what started off innocent was quickly delving into the explicit. Releasing his shirt, Bonnie's hands slid up the muscular expanse of Stefan's chest, circled his neck, before burrowing into the blunt hairs at the nape.

Why was she still kissing him? Bonnie didn't know. She only knew it had been eight months since her last kiss that didn't happen on camera, and she missed feeling the warm, hard press of a male body against her much softer and curvier one. Plus, at the end of the day she trusted Stefan.

Things turned aggressive the second teeth sank into her upper lip before a swipe of a cool tongue extinguished the painful pinch. Stefan's hands which had been holding her around the waist slid up her she sides before journeying back down her spine, slowly, unhurriedly, and contoured to the moons of her well-endowed backside.

A rush went through Bonnie as she clutched Stefan tighter, lungs burning and in desperate need of air, but for whatever reason she couldn't end the kiss though reasons began to ping pong around in her head that they were friends, professional colleagues, and shouldn't be kissing like they were seconds away from having some of the most explosive and awesome sex of their lives.

Where was this side to her coming from to begin with? Bonnie idly wondered but the thought was canceled out before she could find a sufficient answer. Her feet were no longer on the ground; she was being lifted below the knees and hoisted up.

For just a second her lips disconnected with Stefan's and they stared at one another with half-lidded orbs, noses touching. Their heavy breathing matched, contractions took place deep within her womb, and it hadn't escaped Bonnie that something like steel had been pressed against her stomach only seconds ago.

Stefan was hard for _her_ and…yep she was definitely wet for him. So fast? Normally it took more than kissing for her juices to get going but that's all it took with Stefan?

Holy _fuck _he was harder than bricks encased in concrete. The couch was less than two feet away and all he'd need was a head nod of consent for him to lower Bonnie to the sofa, peel her out of her clothes, slide into her warmth and…

"Stefan, I…we…I should go."

_No!_ His mind raged, but forlornly nodded his head and placed Bonnie on her feet. She didn't waste a second putting the entire trailer between them, avoided his eyes and digging her phone out of the couch with shaky hands.

He opened his mouth to apologize but Stefan wasn't sorry he kissed her. He did slightly panic wondering if Bonnie thought he took advantage of her, and maybe deep down he did. For _years _Stefan wanted to do nothing more than to have the freedom to kiss Bonnie when the mood struck, but he never crossed any boundaries. He wouldn't and didn't dare. He had too much respect for her and now he wondered if he had blown Bonnie's respect for him to smithereens.

"Bonnie, I'm sorry. I didn't mean for things to go that far."

With her back still to him, Bonnie stiffened. Too many emotions were running a train on her at the moment and all she could really focus on was escaping. When they first met she might have been curious if Stefan was a good kisser as she often found Elena blushing for hours after one of her heavy make out sessions on film. But he had solidified himself as one of her best friends and a surrogate brother. Being anything more was forbidden.

Briefly Bonnie looked at Stefan and saw that he had paled some. Though his face looked apologetic the noticeable tent in his jeans looked defiant. Flushing to her roots when she caught herself staring unabashed at his erection, Bonnie stared at a point over his shoulder.

"I'll see you on set," Bonnie tossed out hastily, gathered the rest of her things and scampered to freedom.

Alone, Stefan ran his fingers though his hair and cursed.

TBC

**A/N: Okay, if I can finish the rest of this I may post it directly following this or wait a few other one shots before doing so. I've always wanted to write a story that pokes at the show and the actors, so if this came off as more Paulerina than Stefonnie, couldn't really be avoided. Nevertheless, thank you dolls for reading. Let me know what you think. Until next time, love you.**


	2. Bamon-Covet

**A/N: Thank you to everyone who read and reviewed my first Stefonnie drabble. Now it's Bamon's turn.**

**Pairing: S4 Bamon (slightly canon)**

**Summary: Ever wondered what it would be like if Bonnie caught feelings for Damon first and how she would handle those feelings in that they would probably war with her established head canon about the kind of person he is? Well, I've kind of taken a few plot points from S4 and infused them with Bonnie's thoughts told in first person. I don't touch on anything specific from the show like Silas, or the cure. But, I do mention the Miss Mystic Falls pageant, and Bonnie/Shane/Damon/Elena/Jeremy at the lake house trying to prevent Jeremy from annihilating Elena upon sight, and events that happened afterwards. Just note, they are not the main focus, but are mentioned through Bonnie's eyes. So enjoy!**

Disclaimer: These characters are the creative property of LJ Smith and The CW. No copyright infringement is intended.

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I just didn't understand it. How she could go from passionately loving Stefan to loving Damon. It made no sense to me because I had watched the situation long enough to know what was going on. Had visual proof that the sun rose and fell with Stefan Salvatore according to Elena Gilbert, and with Damon—he had been the dark side of the moon. I won't be stupid and say I didn't see the appeal _before _certain facts came into the light. But this whole situation caught me the fuck off guard, and well I just trying to process it.

I wanted to be a good friend and sometimes being a good friend was knowing when to speak up and say something and when to shut up. Enough people had tried to tell Elena what to do with her life, (even I was guilty of that), and she was at an age, just like the rest of us to know precisely what she wanted. But instead, she chose to hide behind the cloak of indecision and dangled along two brothers who couldn't function together properly from one crisis to the next.

My head wasn't shoved so far up magic's ass that I didn't know what was going on in my friends' lives. Well, let me be honest. I only knew what I did because of Caroline. She was typically the one to keep me in the loop even if what she had to share with me was nothing more than idle gossip. In hindsight I tolerated those days—just barely, but now I could be grateful to Caroline for having enough care about me to include me on things I never would have heard about otherwise. However, things still did manage to fall between the cracks. I had been forgotten about, reduced to an afterthought, and after a time the solitude was needed because death was turning out to be the only real constant I had.

I didn't tell anyone about the pains in my stomach that developed after Grams died and only got worse the more magic I used, the more I over extended myself. Nosebleeds and losing consciousness was only half the fun. Battling insomnia, having poor concentration, even losing my hair, the amount of worrying I had done had begun to take its toll on me. But I kept quiet. Because…who would care? I mean, I know my friends weren't heartless to at least not say, "Oh, Bonnie why didn't you tell us what was going on? We could have helped you."

Helped me with what? Would have been my typical reply. My friends couldn't do what I could. They had big hearts and egos that could easily be crushed; bones that could be shattered, blood that could and had been spilled. However, I knew I was the most powerful, but power died a premature death if it's not nurtured or followed up with anything remotely resembling substance.

And that's what I lacked. Substance. My life was void without it.

I thought falling in love would add substance. I thought laying down my life so that my best friend could live, would add substance. I thought standing up to those who scared me without letting them know I was scared created substance. And maybe those things did. I don't really know. I'm only eighteen and the highlight of my life has been…faking my death, watching my grandmother die, and being treated like a punching bag by the spirits and the two guys my best friend had fallen in love with.

I didn't need to question what it was about Elena that made people go above and beyond for her. I've been her friend for close to two decades. I knew. Could write the book about the kind of person she represented, but at the end of the day it was nothing more than an ideal. She was the ideal. The mold. The prototype. The rest of us—according to the men of Mystic Falls were nothing but copies and not very good ones at that.

It stung. I never paid it much attention in the past because guys in general had always registered a two on my importance meter. Yet it always seemed to flutter in the back of my head.

When we were cheerleaders most of the guys in the stadium would be fixated on her. I'd smile the whole thing off, point out a particular person during one of our breaks. Elena would make a weird face, I'd laugh, and fall right back into cheer mode. Once we hit the after party, boys would come up to us to ask us to dance. We'd accept and the guy I'd dance with would ask me one question about myself and spend the rest of the time throwing furtive looks at Elena.

Physically I didn't think anything was wrong with me. I just kind of figured this being the south, Mystic Falls where the population wasn't all that diverse; I just wasn't anyone's type. Elena never took any of the devotion too seriously because she normally had her eye on one guy, and she'd date him for a while before settling in a relationship. She never spread herself too thin, but she invariably kept her options open until she was ready to commit.

Caroline didn't really have that kind of patience. And I wouldn't say she lacked self-esteem or perhaps she did but hid it under being the perfect social butterfly. She'd rather die than be caught dead leaving the house without a stitch of makeup on, or the right outfit and accessories. Caroline was the ultimate girly girl and with her being a vampire, she still was but didn't mind getting her hands dirty.

And they constantly were.

Now she had garnered the affection of a thousand year old hybrid. A hybrid I thought had a certain reverence for witches, but I digress.

If there was something I could say I envied my friends for it would be the amount of people in their lives who cared for them. My list was very short compared to theirs. No, I didn't want homicidal man-children falling in love with me. But I did want love. I did want to be loved for who I was, but unfortunately not many had any clue on who Bonnie Bennett _is_.

I'm a girl, I'm a witch, I'm a daughter, I'm a legacy. I have a heart, a soul, and a sound mind. I'm loyal to a fault, make mistakes, but I persevere because that's what survivors do. I hate being alone, but I close myself off. I'm afraid I'll die before my time and I'll be alone when it happens, and then forgotten within a year completely. Maybe shorter. Maybe longer. I try too hard to please. I don't give myself enough credit, and I demand too little from those around me. I don't know what I want for my future, I can barely see it.

But it would nice if I could be happy. Happiness was a choice. A choice made or broken by prior experiences, and in my prior experiences…there hadn't been much to inspire that emotion. Yet for my own solidarity I would try.

* * *

The choice began at the Miss Mystic Falls pageant. At first, I had no intentions of going. However, Professor Atticus Shane, my mentor of sorts, called me and said he was in town acting as a judge and wanted to see me in person. I had shut myself up in the house to go over spells using Expression, another form of magic that didn't need the okay from the spirits in order for it to work. The last thing I wanted to do was leave my experimenting, put on the dress Caroline had picked out, stand around and smile at a bunch of people I didn't know or like.

But for Shane I had a change of heart because it would be nice to speak with him about the slight progress I had made. So I slipped into the flesh tone Jersey dress, my BCBG pumps, threw some makeup on, tossed my hair into a ponytail, and was out the door in under an hour driving to Klaus' mansion.

When I arrived Caroline was giving her opening speech. I didn't want to distract her by crossing the lawn to stand with the other spectators so I stood off to the side, kind of obstructed by some bushes.

As my eyes passed over the crowd I first spotted Elena. She appeared to be having a difficult time breathing, and I thought she might be repelling the urge to attack someone. I had every intention of going over there and pulling her aside in the event she was having a severe blood craving, but then I saw the reason for her labored breathing.

Damon.

He was staring at her brazenly just as she was doing to him. I looked between them for a while trying to come up with any reason other than the obvious in why they appeared to be resisting ripping the others clothes to shreds. I had bared witness to Damon giving Elena nothing short of thirsty looks, and she ignored them as diplomatically as possible even if her cheeks turned a little pink in her effort. But she never explicitly returned his look with one zealous enough to cauterize skin.

Just the day before Caroline informed me that Stefan had ended things for good with Elena, but she didn't go into any more detail other than to say Elena was putting too much stock into everything Damon told her. In terms of being a vampire.

It wasn't just that, I knew. Stefan and Damon rarely agreed on anything when it came to Elena, but Stefan wouldn't leave her just because he and Damon weren't seeing eye-to-eye. No. Stefan knew what I was seeing. Elena wanted to fuck his brother. Plain and simple. If she wanted to call it love after all the shit Damon not only put her through but all of us through…I wondered if at some point my friend suffered brain damage and we had been too busy to notice the signs before she transitioned.

Nevertheless, watching them I felt I was intruding on something, and for one wild moment I wanted to give them both aneurysms to knock it off, but of course that made me remember my little magic aliment, and that I wasn't where I used to be.

I was powerless in so many ways. Couldn't protect myself, couldn't stop fate, couldn't yell at my friend not to be the girl who trades one brother for another. It was Elena's life. She was going to do what she wanted. That's just how things were.

But in that moment I felt something I didn't think I'd ever feel when it came to those two: jealously. That surprised me more than anything. There was no reason for me to be jealous because I _knew _I didn't want anything, not even a hello from one Damon Salvatore, and sure Elena was beautiful but I was strictly dickly. Maybe my jealousy was born of the knowledge that once again my level of importance to one of the most important people in my life was being diminished again. That made me feel dumb and childish. Whatever the reason, I didn't stick around. I didn't speak to Shane or to anyone. I left because at the end I knew I didn't belong here.

When I saw Elena at school the following day, she was glowing and beaming and she didn't even need to say the reason for her all-around change in attitude. She practically had: I spent all night _and _this morning fucking Damon. I hid my unease behind a smile and quickly agreed to her girl's night in because it had been an appallingly long time since all three of us got together to have fun and remember how we used to be before vampires, werewolves, and yes witches entered into our lives.

That night, we danced around, got drunk—well I did, off some really good champagne and ended up in Damon's bathroom of all places. Elena confessed she did sleep with Damon. Caroline hit the fucking roof. I kept my mouth glued shut and watched those two go back and forth with Elena ending the conversation by basically calling Caroline a slut since she wasted zero time before jumping into bed with Damon.

I had been appalled at Elena's deduction and then the next thing I knew, Caroline and I were being thrown out because we weren't rejoicing with Elena and her newfound sexual freedom with her ex-boyfriend's brother, and her best friend's ex-abuser. And to put the icing on the cake, she claimed to be falling in love with Damon.

What a busy three days Elena had.

Needless to say things were weird and I blocked everything out by spending all my free time with Shane, learning spells, learning about different tribes of people in far off places I'd love to see one day.

"There are things inside of you, Bonnie. Locked away. Powerful things. I just want to help you tap into your real potential," Shane repeated a phrase he had said to me often over Thai one night.

We had moved things from his office to his apartment. It was a bit jarring to be in a more intimate setting with a man who was maybe ten years younger than my dad. But I needed the change in scenery and I needed to be away from Mystic Falls, and the emotions certain people in it churned up.

"Bonnie? You okay?"

I snapped out of it and offered a smile. "I'm fine."

Shane pursed his lips. "I'm not your friends so you don't have to keep up pretenses with me. If something is bothering you, you know you can talk to me. Whatever you need to get off your chest…you know I won't pass judgment."

How do you tell a man you've only known a handful of weeks that your best friend was ruining her life by loving the wrong man that she's unfortunately sired to, and her feelings may not be her own, but it's difficult to tell since she had never been truly honest about her feelings for said "master"? And how could I explain my own personal feelings on the matter without looking like a hypocrite in the process?

I wanted to tell Shane the truth, get his perspective, but I wasn't ready.

"I want to talk…unload…I just can't. Not yet."

"Because of what it'll mean once you do?" he guessed correctly.

We finished our dinner, he gave me yet another book to read, and I made my way back to Mystic Falls. Instead of driving straight to my empty house, I went to the Grill because it had been a while since I saw or spoke to Matt, and I wanted to see him.

The place was crowded so I opted to sit outside. There were couples all around, eating, strolling, being completely and totally engulfed in one another. I couldn't handle the scene and got up to leave, and when I did Damon had stepped out of his car. I waited to see if he was alone and surprisingly he was.

This was my first time seeing him since the pageant. He wasn't wearing the expression of a man who finally got everything he wanted in life. In fact, he was brooding. I had every intention of floating away unseen because I didn't want to face him mainly due to the fact I had nothing nice to say to him. We weren't the type to ask about each other, inquire about the weather. He orbited in his circle. I stayed in mine until our paths had no other option but to intersect.

That hadn't happened lately and he was beginning to seem like a figment of my imagination, but his frequency in my thoughts bothered me.

"Judgey…we have a problem."

Crap.

I turned to face Damon. He stood far closer to me than I expected and I took a step back. "What is it now?"

"Your ex seems hellbent on killing his sister every time he looks at her."

"And how is that my problem?"

Damon opened up his mouth ready to make another quip but then his jaws snapped shut and he blinked at me. That hadn't been the response he obviously anticipated. His brows knitted together.

"You're not the least bit worried about Jeremy killing your best friend, or Elena killing her brother in self-defense? I know you can be cold but damn I didn't know you were ice cold."

That almost sounded like a compliment. "No, I just find it amazing you only speak to me when there's a problem when I'd much prefer for you not to speak to me at all. What makes you think I can stop Jeremy from killing Elena anymore than you can? He's a hunter now. It's in his genes. No, I don't want him to kill his sister, but again magic was not invented to solve every single problem. Find someone else."

"Like that shady ass professor you've been spending all your free time with?"

I folded my arms over my chest. I didn't want to drag Shane into this and it was nice to have something of my own I didn't have to share with everyone else. Well, apparently that wasn't going to last very long even if I told Damon to rot in hell and leave Shane alone.

"Is someone feeling a little neglected, Bonnie? Still hurt you weren't clued in about certain things because of your lack of magical talent? We do have lives outside of worrying if the witch will be functional or dysfunctional today. Get over it."

Something happened and shut down. I pulled the gloves off. "Do you remember when Rebekah kidnapped you, tortured you, repeatedly stabbed and sliced into your skin because you pissed her off?" Damon swallowed and didn't comment. "Remember how helpless you felt being at her and Klaus' mercy, and you said my name in that small voice, practically begging me with your eyes to free you knowing I had the power to do it? And what did I do? I left. Only, I called Elena and told her where you were." Again he said nothing. "That wasn't the only time I saved your ungrateful life. If I hadn't placed Klaus in Tyler's body your ass would be toast, and if I hadn't lowered the flames in that warehouse, your ass would be roast. So…the next time you want to act superior to me remember, Damon…I _am _your god."

The murmur of voices all around us provided background noise as Damon and I stared at each other. From the look on his face he was struggling with coming up with a cutting response that would remind me of my inferiority and age. He did bob his head and stared at his boots. It felt amazing to render his ass speechless. I took another step back, he remained where he was.

"Soooo long story short…you're not helping?"

I let out an irritated sound in the back of my throat and officially walked away. Elena had my number. Jeremy had my number. If they truly wanted help with this problem they'd call me and not send their—well more so Elena's errand boy to do her work for her. But it felt good releasing that off my chest. Deep seated feelings I had harbored for too long with no place to go but to take everything good about me and warp it into something bad.

Needless to say I did eventually show my face at the Gilbert lake house where Jeremy had been staying to tramp down his homicidal urge to kill his sister.

He and I kept our conversations short and to the point as he spent most of his time outside chopping wood. I called Shane to ask if any of his methods of hypnosis might help Jeremy, and he said he had a few ideas in mind he'd like to try out. He was on the way as well as Damon and Elena.

I made tea with those special herbs Shane had prescribed because I needed something to do, something to keep my mind off things I was trying very hard not to think about. Truth be told, I didn't want to be here, but I didn't want to examine the reason why too closely.

The major holidays were around the corner. My father was home a lot more now and I tried my best not to worry about his safety since parents—fathers in particular didn't have a long shelf life in Mystic Falls. If I had known Tyler's father had been in the warehouse too that night, I would have told Stefan to save him. I couldn't look at Tyler for a while after it happened knowing how minutes could change or damn a life forever.

I may have pointed fingers at the killers around me for killing, but I had blood on my hands, too. I left Mason Lockwood alone with Damon knowing or at least suspecting he wouldn't let the man walk free after getting info on Katherine and her diabolical plan. All I cared about was where I stood with my friends and being strong enough to fight. There was Luca and Jonas to consider. I didn't feel as bad about Jonas since he hijacked my powers, but Luca truly suffered and I didn't want that for him.

The sound of car tires thankfully interrupted my musings and I went outside to welcome the first arrival. It was Shane. I made brief introductions and he hiked a brow at me. I confided a while ago that Jeremy was my ex, that I essentially got dumped for a ghost. One day, I'd laugh about that but today wasn't that day.

Shane and Jeremy talked for a minute before he resumed his wood chopping. I could only imagine what or who he might be thinking about as he hacked that poor tree into pieces.

"Feeling awkward?" Shane stood by me in the doorway as we watched Jeremy work.

I shrugged. "I'm kind of use to being in awkward situations or suffering from secondhand embarrassment."

"He's huge," Shane snorted. I laughed a little. "Something tells me he didn't exactly look like that before the hunter's curse."

I shook my head. Jeremy had been buff, sure, but this Jeremy was a monster, a bonafide hulk. "Why do they call it the hunter's curse? How can ridding the world of vampires be classified as a curse?"

"Because it becomes a fixation," Shane explained. "Hunters kill and don't even bother to ask questions. Friend, foe, ally, family, no one is exempt. If you're part of the undead you're public enemy number one and you have to die as swiftly as you were made. Little by little, and with each kill a hunter begins to lose his humanity."

Hmm, after hearing that a hunter didn't sound much different from a vampire. "Are you sure your method will help curb Jeremy's desire to kill Elena?"

"She's kind of his anchor to his humanity, and she has to be removed so he can do what he needs to do. If I can suppress it…then he should be fine."

"Are there any side effects?"

"Not that I know of. Excuse me," Shane disappeared back inside before I could even ask if he had done something like this before.

He was a researcher, a professor of the occult, studied and traveled religiously so I had faith he knew what he was doing. Hopefully.

The hour of truth approached with Elena and Damon's arrival. Jeremy immediately went stiff, clung to the handle of the ax like he was seconds away from throwing it and that left the vampires a little immobilized in the car. Seeing their faces, their fear if they made any sudden moves that'd be it for them was a bit a funny, I won't lie about that. But I went up to Jeremy, spoke to him in a dulcet tone, and told him to trust me.

His calm demeanor had been nothing but a front the second he invited Elena inside and tried to stake her in the back.

I had another long day ahead of me, and my mood certainly wasn't being helped by Damon's presence. He didn't trust Shane and never let the man walk two feet without letting him know.

Damon and I didn't really speak. Yet when you went out of your way to avoid someone that's when the universe decided you should run into each other at every single twist and turn.

We bumped into each other in the hallway when I went to go check up on Jeremy to see how he was doing after the first round of Shane's hypnosis.

"Excuse me, your holiness," he stated condescendingly but didn't move out of the way.

I ignored him which only made Damon more determined to be in my face. "What?" I glared up at him.

"Do you honestly think dangling Elena, the very person Jeremy is trying to kill in his face in order to curb his appetite to kill her is going to work? That'll be like locking Stefan in a room full of blood bags or bleeding humans in order to help him kick his blood addiction."

"So what do you suggest?"

"That Jeremy uses someone else to temper his need to kill. Someone he had warm and fuzzy feelings for."

I knew what he was getting at but I couldn't deny myself the opportunity to make Damon feel all of two feet tall. "Or, we could just transfer Jeremy's need to kill Elena on to you," I smiled charmingly. "It would only be fair considering you snapped his neck, and threatened his life so many times I've lost count. I don't understand why she likes you," that last part totally slipped out unintentionally.

Damon grinned cockily, "Obviously because you haven't had sex with me."

"Classy," my eyes rolled and I pushed Damon out of the way.

As much as he annoyed me even I couldn't overlook the fact he had been right. Using Elena was the wrong way to go about things and I said as much to Shane. Besides, we hadn't been making any sort of progress because every time Jeremy went into a trance he basically blamed Elena for the systemic murder and death of all their family, and even made jabs about her choice in men. Not laughing or nodding in agreement had been a little difficult.

By nightfall things had been looking up. Jeremy could be around his sister for ten minutes before wanting to rip her head off. Periodically, Elena would go outside to speak with Damon when things got too tense. I couldn't hear what they were talking about but from the looks of things it appeared she was trying to convince him her love for him was real. Damon didn't look swayed, only resigned that it would only be a matter of time before her love for Stefan came rushing back to the surface.

"Sire bonds are an interesting thing, wouldn't you say?" Shane asked.

"You know about them?" I nodded my head in Damon and Elena's direction.

"I've been filled in by a very angry and desperate man who's spent a majority of his time not wanting to put any stock into my beliefs, but was willing to listen to my take on his predicament."

"I just don't understand how one day she could go from being all about Stefan to following Damon around like a lost puppy. It's like…" they traded places.

"What I find even more perplexing is her total lack of anger at the fact Damon hasn't released her from the bond. Not entirely, anyways."

I turned to face Shane, then. "What do you mean?"

"Just look at them, Bonnie. All afternoon her eyes never stopped following him. She's found every reason she could think of to talk to Damon, or touch him. Not the behavior of someone who is aware her behavior is being molded according to someone else's will. Had they been like that before she became a vampire?"

"No…they were…close."

"But not lovers."

"Elena had too much respect for Stefan to fool around with his brother behind his back." I think.

"I figured as much. But there's something else I found even more interesting."

"What?"

Shane leaned a little closer and whispered, "Your eyes followed him around, too."

* * *

Shane was crazy. I gave him the benefit of the doubt and called him eccentric, but nope he was crazy. Mental. Certifiable. If he thought I had some kind of hidden attraction for Damon Salvatore, Shane needed to lay off the weed.

I stood at the end of the pier admiring the stars, an activity I hadn't done in a long time. I couldn't turn my thoughts off to save my life, but I did begin to go over everything with a fine tooth comb.

Had I stopped viewing Damon as a threat and began to think of him as a friend? No, that was impossible. Or maybe before he turned my mom I may have flirted with the idea of us being frenemies. However, it couldn't compete with the way he felt about Elena and so I never did more than what was necessary to build anything up between us.

There was no us and there never would be. A man like Damon only seemed capable of loving one person at a time and for a very long time. And…I didn't like him. He being the antithesis of the qualities I wanted in a friend or anything more, no we just weren't a fit.

But, how could I explain those feelings that churned in my stomach whenever he got within inches of me? How could I explain why his relationship with Elena irritated me? How could I explain the times I relied on him more than Stefan and even Caroline when we played keep away with Klaus' coffins?

None of that added up to anything. Except, maybe my attitude toward him began to change when he said he was Team Me when Abby showed up to tell me how to do the desiccation spell, and she didn't think I could pull it off.

I knew I was only useful to Damon based on how much power I had to keep the person he truly loved—alive. I wasn't exactly a person to him. A force. A weapon. A magic wand. I was everything and nothing but what I truly was. A girl who just wanted the same things everyone else had access to.

No, I didn't like Damon. I wasn't attracted to him in the slightest.

I shuffled on my feet to head back to the house since the temperature was plummeting. When I did and cleared about half of the pier, I stopped abruptly seeing two silhouettes lean into each other. Though they were partly covered in shadow it didn't take a genius to figure out what they were doing.

Lowering my eyes I hurried my footsteps and journeyed back inside the warmth of the house.

Jeremy was in the living room sorting through boxes of Christmas decorations. I joined him and tried not to think about what was happening outside.

"How do you feel?" I asked.

"Almost like my old self. I don't know."

"Just give it time."

"You don't mind me using you as my anchor as not to go into a berserker rage considering we're not…I mean we haven't exactly been…I messed up," Jeremy stammered.

If he was looking for me to say it was okay, it didn't matter anymore I wasn't going to absolve him. What Jeremy did, hurt. It broke my heart and I didn't have too many pieces of my heart left for anyone to tamper with. So I hardened what was left.

"You did," I finally said.

"I'm sorry, Bonnie. You deserved better than how I treated you. You deserve better than me. I just want…I really want you to be happy. And maybe one day we can be friends again."

I smiled sadly because that was the nicest thing anyone had said to me in a while. Not discounting the compliments Shane paid me but I figured he only did it so I could trust him.

"Maybe," I offered and said no more than that.

We were alone for an additional five minutes before Elena came back inside with Damon following closely behind her.

I stared at Damon willing myself to hold his gaze and feel nothing. Not anger, not aggravation, not anxiety, not…not anything. I willed myself not to be taken by the spectacular blue quality of his eyes, the shape of them, how his pupils dilated, none of that was to register in my brain. Not his abnormally handsome face. Not his lean body. Nothing.

He looked at me, face unreadable and the battle of wills started. Damon remained parked at the sliding glass door as Elena hesitantly approached and sat down on the opposite side of the table wearily casting her gaze on Jeremy to see if he might lunge for her. When he smiled she released the breath she had been holding, all the while I never backed down from Damon's probing.

He hiked a brow in the air and his lip was pulling upward at the corner in a smirk.

My buzzing cell phone made me jump and I hastily dug it out of my coat pocket, screened who was calling and answered. "Hey dad…no I won't be much longer. I'm about to get on the road in the next few minutes. Everything all right?" Pause. "Okay. I'll see you soon."

"You're about to leave?" Elena stated the obvious.

I nodded.

Shane came into the room then with his bag. "I'm about to head out myself," he directed his next comment at Jeremy, "Remember what we talked about."

"I got it."

"Elena…Damon…pleasure as always," Shane said officiously which neither vampire really bought. "Bonnie if you're ready I'll walk you out."

I stood, grabbed my jacket and purse, hugged Elena, told Jeremy good night, and didn't say anything to Damon. He merely turned his entire body and watched as Shane and I headed to the front door and left.

I questioned, "Do you think it's a good idea to leave the three of them alone?"

"Damon has proven he's more than capable of putting out any fires should they arise. I'm glad you're heading home, though. I can tell this place, being around certain people makes you sad. But you won't always be sad, Bonnie, or feel like you're coming in second place."

Tears wanted to well into my eyes but I blinked them away. I vigorously nodded my head as I leaned my dead weight against my car that was in serious need of a wash. I thought I had been putting up a good front in hiding my feelings, but Shane was adept at reading between the lines better than the people who've known me almost all of my life.

I opened my car door. "Thanks, Shane for helping. I really do appreciate all the time you've given."

"It's worth it because you are. Drive carefully, Bonnie. I'll see you at our usual time next week."

"Okay."

As I backed away from the house I thought I saw someone leaning against the front door, and when I looked again no one was standing there. I probably imagined that.

* * *

I wish this were a dream. That I wasn't really standing in front of a crowd of dozens of Mystic Falls' citizens wearing a dress so thin I might as well have been naked. A silver microphone was the only barrier between me and the audience and did nothing to shield my quaking hands. I tried to resurrect the Bonnie who thrived during football games, screaming at the top of her lungs, executing somersaults over asphalt without a hint of fear.

That Bonnie had long since packed her bags and headed off to brighter territory. This Bonnie draped in a one shouldered white gown about to sing in public for the first time since middle school could barely hold her head up to face the dizzying crowd. It was cold tonight but heaters had been strategically placed around the stage and concealed so I was warm, but still shivering. My hair blew intermittedly, and I took a deep cleansing breath once the track began to play.

Someone shouted, "Go Bonnie!" and a smile inadvertently curled my lips. Then, I opened my eyes, took a panoramic view of the crowd, paused briefly on someone who stood out among the masses, before looking down again.

I don't know how I let Caroline talk me into performing for the Harvest Festival. She called me in a panic saying one of the performers backed out at the last minute, and they needed an alternate. That's when she remembered I had taken vocal lessons growing up and had been a part of the choir my freshman and sophomore year. I whined and said I didn't want to do it, and asked why couldn't she sing, and Caroline said her name was basically splattered everywhere and didn't want to come off as looking like she's desperate for the limelight. So here I stood coming to my friend's rescue yet again.

The spotlight was aimed at me and after counting down in my head, I opened my mouth.

_I've seen the world_

_Done it all_

_Had my cake now_

_Diamonds, brilliant_

_And Bel Air now_

_Hot summer nights, mid-July_

_When you I were forever wild_

_The crazy days, city lights_

_The way you'd play with me like a child_

I was no Lana Del Rey, but I poured what I was feeling into the lyrics singing it to some imaginary man I had yet to meet who would be everything I could possibly need and more. That we would be a perfect, imperfect fit for one another; and I wouldn't fear losing him to a fucking ghost because the thought of leaving me for any reason caused him nothing short of unbearable pain.

_Will you still love me_

_When I'm no longer young and beautiful?_

_Will you still love me_

_When I got nothing but my aching soul?  
I know you will, I know you will_

_I know that you will_

_Will you still love me when I'm no longer beautiful?_

I chanced a peek at the crowd. Some people were swaying, many were holding up their cells with the flashlight on, and others were recording me on their iPads. That made me nervous and I snapped my eyes shut once again.

_I've seen the world, lit it up_

_As my stage now_

_Channeling angels in the new age now_

_Hot summer days, rock 'n' roll_

_The way you play for me at your show_

_And all the ways I got to know_

_Your pretty face and electric soul_

I repeated the chorus again, and began to add movement instead of being completely stiff like a corpse. A gale wind blew from the northwest and ruffled the hem of my gown as it fluttered around my feet. As I began to sing the bridge I focused my eyes on the night sky.

_Dear Lord, when I get to heaven_

_Please let me bring my man_

_When he comes tell me that you'll let him in_

_Father tell me if you can_

_Oh that grace, oh that body_

_Oh that face makes me wanna party_

_He's my sun, he makes me shine like diamonds_

The past few months caught up with me. The times I ran around like a chicken with no head. The times magic failed me and I failed my magic. The times I had been walked on, the arguments, the bloodshed, the nights spent tucked in a ball crying my eyes out and stifling the sound so my dad wouldn't hear, and even if he did he might not even care why I was upset. The times I downplayed my own pain as not to inconvenience anyone. Maybe I had been silently crying out to be saved, to be noticed, to be wanted. But I knew I needed someone to care and if I couldn't care about myself then why should I expect someone else to do the job for me? Despite all of that, I wanted to shine.

_Will you still love me_

_When I'm no longer young and beautiful?_

_Will you still love me_

_When I got nothing but my aching soul?_

_I know you will, I know you will_

_I know that you will_

_Will you still love me when I'm no longer beautiful?_

The music drew to a close and finally I stared at individual members of the crowd. "Thank you," my voice sounded extra husky through the microphone. There had been a dramatic pause and I thought for one frightening moment I bored everyone to tears, but then the claps started, followed by whistles, and cheers. A few people mainly Matt and Caroline yelled encore, but I gave a quick bow and hastily exited off the stage.

My friends, using that term lightly, had all convened around the outer ridges of the festival. Plenty of people stopped me and told me how nice they thought my performance was, and many more were surprised I could sing to begin with. I accepted their praise with all the graciousness and humbleness I could muster, and came to a stop in front of four vampires, one hybrid, and two humans.

Caroline was the first to throw her arms around me and nearly choked me to death. I patted her back, stepped away, and demurely stared at my feet. Quite a few began speaking at once, and I nodded my head, smiled, acted as if it were no big deal. My discomfort only grew once I noticed the most vocal of the bunch had remained exceedingly tight-lipped. I didn't want to think about what Damon may have thought of my singing. I told myself his opinion didn't matter, but my ears were waiting to perk up at the slightest inflection of his voice. I had been thinking about him too much since the lake house.

Stefan was there and appeared to be in extreme pain. He probably only came out tonight as a favor to Caroline. Hardly anyone could tell her no and mean it.

I addressed him specifically because he had a good indication of how I felt. "How are you, Stefan?"

My question startled him. Stefan probably thought he was the last person I'd want to talk to. "I'm doing…I'm okay. How've you been?"

"Same, trying to get better every day."

Out the corner of my eye I saw Elena looking between us.

"The voice of an angel and the body of a goddess."

The group fell silent as Klaus Mikaelson approached.

"What are you going here?" Caroline folded her arms tightly over the bodice of her dress.

Klaus spared her nothing more than a glance before looking at me. I stood a little taller in my shoes wondering what he wanted outside of the making us go on the offensive.

"I merely wanted to congratulate Miss Bennett on exposing us to another one of her various talents. It's nice to discover she's more than a one trick pony."

"Thank you for talking about me like I'm not standing right here," I shifted so I could stare at Klaus head on. _And you would know about ponies wouldn't you? _"I'm glad you enjoyed the performance, Klaus. I sang that just for you."

He blinked and I could _hear _the confusion amongst the group.

"You did?"

I nodded. "You'll find out what I mean later," I refaced my friends. "I can't stick around, guys. I have somewhere else I have to be."

"Where are you going?" Caroline asked.

"I have a date."

Again, there seemed to be confusion as those gathered shifted on their feet, and traded dubious looks with one another because me and date were not two words thrown together in the same sentence. Sadly, I shook my head and wondered off.

* * *

Hours later, after paying the cabbie, I wobbled in my heels towards my front door, shifting through the keys on my ring to find the one for the front door. I hiccupped, giggled, and hummed a little tune to myself replaying the holiday party Shane had invited me to. We spent the night discussing everything except mythology while tossing back Schnapps and I may have smoked my first blunt.

My head was up in the clouds while my feet danced over frozen concrete and grass. I hummed the chorus to "Young and Beautiful" the song I sang tonight—loudly, and a throat cleared scaring me and causing me to drop my keys.

I spun around expecting to see my dad. It was close to two in the morning. I was a little intoxicated, high, and had been in a room full of strangers older than me, and I hadn't told him where I had been headed.

I grimaced upon seeing it was Damon. "What do you want? Why are you here? I'm not in the mood to come to anyone's rescue tonight. I'm tired," I hiccupped again.

He approached, clearing the space between us in less than three strides. He bent and retrieved my keys from the ground and handed them over to me. "You want the truth…I really don't know why I'm here. You see someone spiraling and I guess you want to watch."

"You think I'm spiraling?" I pointed at my chest, swayed, and laughed. "I'm not spiraling. I'm crashing toward rock bottom and I'm almost there," I sang off key.

"Were you with Shane?"

I ignored his question and posed several of my own. "Why is it everyone can have fun but me? Why can everyone have multiple lovers but me? Why can everyone say what's on their mind and not be condemned for it _BUT ME! _" I didn't mean to raise my voice but my anger was swift and I was in a boiling rage.

The lights on the porch burst and shards of glass rained down. Damon and I stared unblinking at each other.

"I'm tired of feeling sad and not good enough. Shane sees something in me," I wiped accumulating mucus from my nose and the tears were falling freely now, and I really didn't care I was crying in front of Damon. "Being around him makes me happy and that's all I want."

"That's not all you want."

I snorted, sighed, and saw my breath in the air. "You're right. I do want more. What I want just doesn't want me," I turned and walked the remaining distance to the door.

"How do you know, Bonnie?"

I kept my back to Damon. "I just do."

I hissed lowly in my throat when he laid his cold hand on my exposed shoulder. He physically turned me around. "I don't know what's happening to you, but I don't like it. Shane is manipulating you."

"Any guy who pays me attention is automatically manipulating me?" that question sounded ridiculous as I drunkenly remembered Ben McKittrick, and a few others who only showed interest in me because they had been after something or someone else. I rotated my shoulder out from Damon's grasp. "Why are you here?"

"I'm worried about you."

I laughed merrily at that. "Yeah, right. Elena sent you here, didn't she? Tell her I'm fine and not to worry. I'm not going to go after Stefan just because he and I exchanged words."

Damon's eyes narrowed.

"Besides, he's not the Salvatore I want."

My eyes ballooned when that damning piece of news rolled the hell off my drunk ass tongue. The expression on Damon's face was nothing less than priceless. Like a deer rammed him from behind.

I closed my eyes practically willing Damon into another universe. "I didn't mean…that didn't come out right. I didn't mean to say that."

Much to my disappointment he was still standing in front of me when I opened my eyes, still looking shocked and dumbfounded.

"Please just go, Damon and chalk this up to the drunk and high ramblings of a confused and embittered witch."

He took a step back, drawing the tip of his tongue over his bottom lip. "You definitely own the patent on saying shocking shit to me, Bonnie. You can't say something like that to me and expect me to just ignore it. But I'm curious. When did…when did your feelings change?"

My cheeks burned and I stared at my feet. "I don't want to talk about this because I don't want to feel anything for you. Especially when you're in love with my best friend who's sired to you. Just please…do me one and forget what I said. I won't be saying it again."

I knew it would be a cold day in hell before I said how Damon made me feel to his face, and a blizzard for him to repeat any sentiment hinting at affection for me.

"Bonnie," he tried.

I quickly turned around, jammed my key in the lock, opened the door, and flew inside. I walked as calmly as I could to my bedroom and once I got there I threw myself on the bed.

Hot tears slid down my cheeks and pooled in my ears, and wet my pillow.

I didn't want to love him. I didn't want to feel anything for the person I allowed to treat me like shit or less than important, yet in his own way had been there for me. Other than Shane, Damon did see something in me, and what he saw I wanted to be. But I needed to be that for myself and no one else. I just had no clue on where to start.

When it came to matters of the heart, Elena didn't know how good she had it. She never pined over anyone. Never had to deal with rejection, unrequited feelings, or total aloofness. She was lucky and I was doomed.

Damon Salvatore was my damnation and maybe even my salvation rolled into one. It was impossible though. I just knew it was.

* * *

The next time I saw Damon he was standing next to Elena huddled in a corner at the Grill dangling mistletoe over her head. She beamed up at him, stood on her toes, and aimed to kiss him, but Damon turned his head and she caught his cheek.

My belly rolled and I warred with leaving or staying. I didn't want to make running a practice and knew I'd have to get used to seeing the two of them being openly affectionate with one another. Didn't mean I had to gawk and stare. I tramped down those counterproductive feelings, and headed for my usual booth. I played around on my phone after I took a seat, and waited for someone to come take my order.

A shadow loomed over me and I slowly glanced up to see who it was. Something green flashed out of the corner of my eye and I noticed it was mistletoe.

"Tis the season, Judgy," Damon waggled the deadly flower over my head.

"I'm not drunk anymore, Damon. You think I'm going to let you kiss me?"

"The tradition dictates that you do."

"Are you playing a game? Because if you are, I'm not interested."

"Tell that to someone more gullible. You have two options. The hard or easy way."

I opted to look away.

Damon sighed and slid into the booth beside me.

"What do you think you're doing?" I demanded and frantically looked around to see if Elena was still present. I couldn't have been sitting alone for more than a couple of minutes before Damon sauntered over, painfully reminding me of the idiot I turned myself into in front of him.

"Since you insist on doing things the hard way I figured I just accommodate you."

"You're enjoying this aren't you? I'm now in a position to have to eat my words…"

"Look, Bonnie, drunk or not I know it took a lot for you to say what you said. I can either believe you or write it off."

"So?" I questioned when Damon didn't elaborate. The last thing I wanted was have to walk on eggshells around him, or feel exposed like a nerve.

"I," Damon scratched the back of his neck, "I'm flattered…I won't lie about that."

"I wasn't trying to flatter you."

"I know you weren't. Just…I never looked at you that way and I _never _thought you viewed me as anything more than a pain in your ass."

"You still are," I told him just so he'd know that though my feelings for him might be evolving that didn't include my opinion.

He grinned looking slightly relieved not everything between us was different. "I don't know where things will go from here. I'm…with Elena," those words weren't spoken with absolute confidence.

I looked away. "I know and the last thing I want to do is be the other woman or come in between whatever the two of you are trying to build. She…needs you."

Damon nodded. "She needs you, too. I really have no idea what to do because I've never been in this position before. It's weird," he sounded too bemused and pleased by that.

"Even weirder consider the person who's put you in the middle."

"Exactly." Pause. "So can we agree that nothing changes?"

I swallowed and reluctantly nodded. These…_feelings_ I had for him would pass soon enough. I was sure of it. My heart, however, wanted nothing to do with my impassivity.

"You have a nice set of pipes by the way," Damon said.

I brought my curious gaze back to the vampire sitting to my right. "Thanks."

"Did you really dedicate that song to Klaus?"

My lips twitched as I tried to not smile. "Would you care if I did?"

Damon leaned back and tossed his arm over the back of the booth. "I don't really care who you sing to so long as it's not Stefan."

I looked him up and down before snorting and shaking my head. "You really need to let that complex go."

"Can't," Damon purposely made his eyes bug out. "It's part of my charm. Buy me a drink?"

"No."

He shrugged. "Go dutch?"

"Absolutely."

"This won't make us friends if we split an order of fries will it?"

"I'll probably want to kill you before the night is over."

"It has been a while since you've planted me on my ass. Kind of miss it. I think we'll be all right."

"Yeah, but…don't think I'm not going to tell you about yourself once you begin to smell yourself."

Damon laughed. "Honestly, I wouldn't want it any other way. I like you, Bonnie. Just the way you are."

I warmed a little, "And...you're not being terrible for once," I smiled, and plucked the mistletoe out of his hand. I examined it for a while.

"What are you planning on doing with that?" Damon asked, his thigh touching mine.

"The possibilities are endless."

The end.

**A/N: I'm not completely satisfied with this ending but I tried to keep Bonnie IC as much as possible and I don't think she'd ever kiss her best friend's boyfriend. Much too loyal for that, but her heart can't help feeling what it wants pertaining to a certain Salvatore. I may continue this drabble later to see how things have progressed in the future. Next up will be Benzo. Thank you for reading and let me know what you think. Until next time, love you!**


	3. Bonnie Robb Stark Enzo-Honor Bound

**A/N: Hi y'all. Okay so gorging myself on 3 seasons of Game of Thrones in one weekend, I have grown a mini-obsession with Robb Stark. If you read Series 2 of Vigne I mentioned Bonenzo would be up and in a way they are, just not in the way you think. This features mostly Bonnie/Robb Stark with a splash of Bonenzo at the end. This is all-human/AU and the plot is all original work, no story line borrowed from either GoT or TVD. Features minor lemons. Enjoy!**

Disclaimer: These characters, with the exception of Robb Stark he belongs to George R.R. Martin/HBO, are the creative property of LJ Smith/CW Network. No copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

"You honestly expect me to be able to think straight while you lie there," his eyes trailed down the sensuous and tempting hills and curves of her body—like an hourglass that had been tipped over she was, "with no clothes on?" he managed to get his point across though he sounded thirsty once completing his sentence.

A feminine chuckle which sounded more like a purr than anything else was his reward for such a statement. "It's not my fault if you let distractions interfere with your ability to strategize."

"You're not being fair," he pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes. He shouldn't have done that because he still saw snippets of her unblemished caramel skin flash like a blinking neon sign before him.

Opening them once more he stared at this woman—his woman. Her skin absorbed the candlelight reflecting back to him layers of velvety and burnished gold skin. The muted light also made the pupils of her eyes enlarge that he could hardly distinguish her incandescent emerald irises. She blinked owlishly at him almost as if she crooked a finger and asked him to come closer. She was a gravitational force, a femme fatale, the possessor of his heart, the love of his life.

And she was leaving him.

Robb Stark knew it. Knew it as well as the phases of the moon and the howl of the wolf, the animal that seemed to have adopted his family, or maybe it was the other way around.

"There's not much fair when it comes to business or matters of the heart, Robb," she admonished.

He guffawed, "I won every battle. But I'm losing this war."

"Poor man," she pouted playfully.

Unable to help himself, Robb knew if he continued to give her an appraisal he wouldn't be able to speak the words he had been holding in for centuries it seemed. Plus, staring at her unabashed kept him hard and ready to glide back into her warmth splayed between her supple thighs. She was the quintessence, Venus di Milo, the Trojan horse not Helen of Troy. A thief in the night and a man's downfall. Robb had been foretold of all those things by his mother from the second Bonnie Bennett walked into that boardroom in downtown Atlanta.

This was supposed to be a clean merger. Two investment conglomerates joining forces: North Industries and Prodigal Consolidated to decimate their common competition, the Lannister run Kings Landing, LLP. The alliance between the two families the Starks and Bennett's had sent a mini-shockwave through the private sector, and had people scrambling in vain to stop it. Paperwork had been signed, shares divided, an even ownership of their unilateral company established, but the second azure eyes landed on the acting CEO of Prodigal Consolidated, Robb Stark found every excuse he could to remain in Atlanta after the deal had gone through.

Beauty and brains, Bonnie Bennett was a rich and poor man's wet dream. Her keen mind for business, her willingness to be cutthroat and unwavering pretty much hammered in Robb's desire to make his intentions known.

Never mix business with pleasure his father often harped that sentiment in his eldest son's ear because Robb was a chick magnet. Women could hardly resist taking a peek or two or five whenever he strolled by. The heir to the Stark empire took the adoration in stride. His thick mane of curly sable hair, trim beard, neoclassical features, and lean physique appealed to an array of women. And at any given moment he could have his pick of them, but Robb didn't use women like Kleenex like his friends and acquaintances did. Perhaps it was his old fashioned moralism which made him date monogamously, in any case when Robb saw Bonnie for the first time the pursuit had started, and he was determined to make her his.

It had not been easy. Bonnie kept throwing up walls. Ropes, ladders, even a catapult hadn't been enough to breach them, but Robb soon learned in some situations it was best to follow silent cues in order to figure out how to proceed.

Once the deal had gone through, the champagne brought out, hair was let down and tongues began wagging. Bonnie had remained apart during the celebratory gala, standing on the outskirts observing with those hawk-like shrewd orbs of hers that didn't seem to miss anything.

Robb placed himself right in her line of sight, tipped his glass in salute towards her, and moved on to engage an analyst from his company in conversation. Every few minutes or so he would look up and find her eyes lingering on him, but Robb offered nothing more than a cordial smile in return.

An hour or so passed and a server bumped Robb on the shoulder and hastily handed a business card to him. Seeing who it was from, Robb hardly resisted smirking. When he turned the card over and saw her elegant scrawl telling him her hotel room number, Robb finished off his champagne, kissed his mother on the cheek, gave his father a firm handshake, hopped behind the wheel of his sports coupe, and flew down the streets of Atlanta arriving at his destination in minutes.

Taking the elevator to the seventeenth floor of the Ritz Carlton, Robb knocked three times, waited, and the vision that welcomed him once the door parted made breathing almost painful.

He never would have suspected that nude lingerie with white trim could look so naughty and nice at the same time. He was pulled inside.

Robb wanted to know why Bonnie came to this decision. Why she wanted him. And just as he opened his mouth to begin his diatribe, a lone finger pressed against his lips rendering him silent.

"Shhh, we've done enough talking," a sultry voice commanded.

Their lips met in a new merger, hands attacked flesh, and Robb found nirvana.

That had taken place three months ago. Their courtship revolved around dinner, sex, business symposiums, and the occasional outing to either a sports game or movie. In his hectic world of corporate politics, being with Bonnie tethered Robb to the real world. This had been nothing but a dream, a respite—he knew this, but had been incapable of preventing himself from falling.

"Come back to bed," Bonnie lowered her eyes coquettishly. "We don't have to be anywhere for a few more hours."

"A few more hours for you to torture me," Robb countered and thrust his arms into his Henley shirt, and pulled on his hastily discarded boxers.

Bonnie sat up in bed causing those pert breasts of hers to stand high on her chest and draw Robb's avarice gaze. "Are you still upset about what I told you?"

"What do you think? I'm supposed to accept it and do what exactly?"

"Move on."

Robb chuckled humorlessly. "I can't just turn it off like a faucet you know. I'm in far too deep."

Bonnie nodded and regretted things had carried on the way they had. She loved Robb. There was no question about it, but she was a woman with obligations, and those obligations had been in place long before Robb Stark entered her life by crossing over the threshold of her boardroom that April morning.

"I don't mean to hurt you, Robb," she confessed regrettably. "You just came in my life at the right and wrong time."

Robb sat down on the edge of the four poster bed. "Don't remind me."

Slithering closer, Bonnie wrapped her arms around Robb's shoulders and kissed his cheek. "You mean so much to me, but my son…I want him to grow up in a two-parent household."

Robb tensed at the mention of Bonnie's two year old son fathered by another man, a man she had an on again, off again relationship with for the last five years. When Enzo Riodan walked out of her life the last time he made up his mind a long term relationship wasn't what he wanted, he left behind his seed, and nine months later Bonnie ushered a seven pound six ounce wiggling and wrinkle skinned little boy into the world.

Once Enzo learned the truth he made an attempt to come back and be a father, but he and Bonnie had too much bitterness between them, and months later he checked out once more. Now he was back and this time brought an engagement ring with him and proposed to Bonnie in front of the board of directors leaving her little choice but to accept.

However, Bonnie rescinded Enzo's offer behind the privacy of her mansion gates. Now it would appear she was having second thoughts.

"He's only going to leave you again," Robb contended. "He's a man without honor if he couldn't put his own selfishness aside and work things out the _first _time he came back after you gave birth to _his _son."

Bonnie gnawed her lip as guilt bit into her. Robb only knew her side of the story, the story she tailored so she wouldn't come off as being petty, which shamefully she had been. Enzo had been obdurate in making it work. However Bonnie, unable to bury the hatchet and start over made it impossible for Enzo to get a word in edgewise. In addition to that she never let one day pass by without reminding him of the times he broke his word to her and to their son, and how he made her feel expendable, and like his own personal toilet. Only around to dump his shit on her before storming out of her life when the arrangement was no longer convenient.

Bonnie loved her son—Braylon. He was her whole world. Her heart and her soul. She'd do anything for him. Do anything to see his gap tooth smile. Do anything to make sure he knew he was protected and loved and most of all wanted, even if his father couldn't pay a judge to sentence him to a clue.

"I know Enzo's track record speaks for itself. He's been spending more time with Braylon, and he's putting in a transfer with his job. He's…he's trying. Although that trying could use some more effort. I have to meet him halfway."

Robb shifted on the bed to better face Bonnie. "So marrying a man you don't love is what you consider meeting someone halfway?"

Sighing, Bonnie tucked her legs under her. "It's complicated. It's always been complicated between me and Enzo. I've known him for a long time, and I know to you it looks messed up and maybe it is, but I don't want Braylon to grow up in a broken home like I did. Look," she wrapped her slender fingers around Robb's chin and forced him to make eye contact, "I love you…but I have to do right by my son."

Robb's heart superheated at her admission and then ripped to pieces once the harrowing truth came filtering in. Bonnie loved him, they could have a life together, but she was going to create a false one with a man she didn't love all for her son's benefit. Somewhere deep inside Robb called her actions honorable, but they were severely misguided in his opinion. If he were in her shoes he'd probably do the same thing. Plus, his parents wouldn't hear of him having an illegitimate child out there. They would expect him to marry the woman he impregnated.

Times were different now. Blended families came in all shapes, sizes, ethnicities. If only she would see that.

Cupping her cheek, Robb pulled Bonnie forward and crushed his lips on hers. "Don't ask me to give you up," he pleaded.

Bonnie wrapped her hand around his wrist. "We both knew going into this it wouldn't last. You being here in Atlanta had always been temporary."

Robb cursed softly under his breath. That much was true. His stay in Atlanta was only supposed to last for the duration of the merger to take place. He drew more than suspicion when he would mutter an excuse for why he was headed some three thousand miles away every single weekend or whenever his scheduled allowed. His life, his roots were in San Francisco.

"If I...," the words got lodged in the back of Robb's throat. "If I asked you to marry me instead what would you say?"

The breath in Bonnie hitched. Would it ever be possible for her to have everything she's ever wanted in life and have it from one man? She didn't answer his question because she couldn't. Bonnie ran her fingers through Robb's curly locks and then rose from the bed.

His eyes followed her movements and he could see her erecting those walls again, keeping him out, prohibiting him from getting any closer.

Silk covered her nudity and Bonnie quickly fashioned the knot in her robe, poured herself a glass of water, and looked away.

"Bonnie?"

"Robb…we need to stop dreaming and face the reality of the situation."

"No," he was off the bed in a second, the glass in her hands went missing two seconds after that, and her lips were being smothered three seconds later.

Robb coaxed her lips apart with his tongue and swept it across the expanse of her orifice, licking the roof of her mouth, prodding her tongue with his until she mewled and whimpered.

His penis began to stiffen behind the cotton barrier his briefs, and the poke of her nipples against his chest turned him on. Robb breathed harshly through his nostrils and palmed one of Bonnie's fatty globes, kneaded it in his hand before pinching and twisting her nub. He shoved aside her robe until a breast popped out and it took no effort at all for it to find its new place in his mouth. She hissed at the feel of his mouth suctioning and suckling her and the scratchiness of his beard along her skin.

Bonnie's head fell back as she threaded her fingers through his endless curls; her nails raked his scalp, and before she knew it, she was on her back again, her robe disappearing from her body, and a latex sheathed hard cock entered her premises.

"I love you," Robb said through clenched teeth. "I can't let you go."

Scissoring her legs over his ass, Bonnie didn't want to let Robb go either, especially not while he plowed her garden.

"Marry me," he licked the curve of her shoulder.

"I…can't."

"You can."

"Braylon needs…"

"I can be his father."

A broken laugh and a semi-anguished cry emitted from Bonnie's lips. "You don't know what you're saying."

"I do," although at the moment his rationalism was being muddled by the exquisite tightness surrounding his manhood. "I can be his father. I can be…" he grunted, "I can be your husband."

"Robb," Bonnie leaned up and kissed him. "No more talking."

Heeding her words, Robb vowed to himself this wouldn't be the end of things between them. It couldn't end like this. It wouldn't.

Winding their fingers together and thrusting his hips, Robb made her come until Bonnie was dehydrated.

* * *

Entering the code to her security gate, Bonnie pulled her Mercedes CL Class down the winding drive and parked it in front of the two car garage. Grabbing her purse and overnight bag, she stepped one platform stiletto on the ground, exited her vehicle, and entered the house through the mudroom.

Walking through the industrial-sized kitchen she could hear the sound of the television and her little boy doing his best to sing along to the Disney tune in his usual gibberish. Smiling to herself, she quickened her steps and found him bouncing around the coffee table in the living room. Her eyes landed on her exhausted looking nanny who was more than relieved she had shown up.

Bonnie glanced at the TV monitor to discern which movie was playing. _The Lion King, _her absolute favorite when she was a child. She began singing along to "Hakuna Matata" garnering Braylon's attention. His large dark brown eyes lit up and his small chubby feet raced towards her.

"Mommy!" he threw his small arms around her legs. Bonnie bent down, picked up her boy, and swung him around and laid waste to peppering his soft, russet cheek with kisses. Braylon giggled and squirmed to free himself.

"Did you miss me?" Bonnie asked.

Braylon enthusiastically nodded his head and proceeded to tell Bonnie everything she missed in the twenty-four hours she had been gone combining the words he had mastered with those he made up on the fly.

"My goodness it sounds like you were very busy while I was gone," Bonnie kissed his cheek again and finally turned to address the au pair. "Thank you, Miss Carrington. Did he use the potty all by himself?"

"He did," the nanny rose from her seat and pulled down the hem of her poplin blouse. Mrs. Carrington was in her late fifties yet had the energy of a twenty-five year old. Bonnie wanted the mature woman's almond skin and wrinkle free eyes when she grew to be her age. Mrs. Carrington always reminded Bonnie of a young Eartha Kitt. Natural black hair cut in a pixie style, high cheekbones, and regality that she had been born with and perfected through years of weaving her way to racial and financial equality.

Mrs. Carrington closed the distance separating her from the mother and her adorable, cherub cheeked little boy with the dark curly hair, and large dark brown eyes. She rubbed an age speckled hand over Braylon's back.

"He's a sweetheart. Though he likes to believe he's in control," she whispered the last part conspiratorially to Bonnie who smiled.

It was indeed, true. Braylon Bennett-Riodan believed he ran everyone's universe and they were there simply to cater to all of his needs, jesters in his court, his source of endless entertainment. In many ways, the universe did come to a stop whenever he cried, or went full throttle when he had a tantrum. There were a lot of things in Bonnie's life she wasn't proud she had done, but having Braylon felt like her biggest achievement and everyday she lived in fear of messing up, of wrecking him or traumatizing him so horribly he wouldn't be able to function on his own.

Like with most mothers, Bonnie wanted to give her son the world, but she also knew balance had to be instituted and there would be a ton of things Braylon would have to work for and earn the old fashioned way. She could protect him from common dangers like germs, strangers, and his own reckless adventurous spirit. However, she couldn't protect him from others letting him down and not fulfilling their promises.

That's why she had been straddling the fence for so long in giving Enzo a definitive answer. Marriage. Her heart desired marriage, yet it also desired another man. A man who didn't live on her side of the continent, although that was easily rectifiable. Yet this man also wasn't Braylon's biological father and signing up to be a stand-in daddy didn't pan out sometimes.

"Do you want to go to Pinkberry?" Bonnie asked of her son.

The little boy bopped his head and clapped his hands together, giving her his widest smile. "Ice c'eam!" he shouted loudly making Bonnie's ears ring.

"Okay, go with Mrs. Carry to get your shoes on and use the bathroom."

"Okay, mommy," Braylon tried to jump out of Bonnie's arms, but she sat the wriggling boy down on his feet and he zoomed off to the staircase to his room.

With her son off doing that, Bonnie picked up her duffel with the intention of dumping it in her room, but the doorbell rang.

She wasn't surprised by who stood on her welcome mat. Bonnie actually expected him to show his face since the man seemed to have a specially built radar capable of detecting whenever she returned from one of her interludes with Robb.

Eyes as dark as a raven's feather and as intense as death stared at her through a square-shaped deeply tanned face. Bonnie's heart pounded, not an unusual symptom when dealing with Enzo Riodan, but an irksome one because after all the ups, downs, broken promises, shattered self-esteem, and limbo he put her through having any kind of reaction other than indifference shouldn't have occurred. And her heart wasn't pounding out of an animalistic attraction, but mostly out of dread she wouldn't be able to last five minutes without wanting to gouge his eyeballs with her fingernails.

Those eyes of his he used plenty of times to seduce her into submission to gain access to her heart and the sweet tangy nectar of her goodies, lowered and spotted the bag clutched in her hand.

"Caught you at a bad time?" he asked cheekily.

Bonnie pursed her lips in annoyance. "You're always catching me at a bad time. How many times have I asked you to call me in advance instead of just showing up? I could have been out with Braylon or had company over."

"Ashamed to be seen with me in public?"

"Don't flatter yourself, Enzo. What do you want? It's not your weekend to visit Braylon."

"I shouldn't need to make an appointment to see my son," he argued.

Bonnie scoffed. "You're right you wouldn't need to make an appointment if you had been here since day one. You know what," she held up a lone finger. "I'm not going to get into it with you right now. I was just on my way out to take Braylon for ice cream. You can come back next weekend."

She made a move to close the door in her ex's face, but he stopped its momentum with his hand. "I can't tag along? I'd really like to see my boy. It's been two weeks."

"Yeah and whose fault is that?" Bonnie voice went up an octave. "You were the one who decided flying off to Vegas to get wasted with your grad school buddies was much more important. He cried _all night_ when I told him you weren't coming." Enzo looked down guiltily. Bonnie continued. "You have so much growing up to do, Enzo. Your son isn't an accessory you can decide one minute you want to wear, parade around, and let others compliment you on, and stash it somewhere until it's needed again. And until you realize he deserves better, a hundred and ten percent commitment…I can't marry you. I won't because I know marriage won't change anything. Not between you and Braylon and definitely not between me and you."

Enzo's face had gone from cordial to fury during Bonnie's tirade. He pointed a finger in her face fed up with her judgmental self-righteousness pretending as if she were Mother of the Year. She was far from it. Leaving their son with the hired help to go off and screw a man, her business partner at that. She was no better than him. All right, so Bonnie contained her activities to when her scheduled allowed, whereas Enzo was liable to get missing at a moment's notice. Still, she was in no position to look down her nose at him. He was putting in a transfer with his job to be closer to his family, and he was willing to completely give up his bachelor lifestyle for the wife, kid, and white picket fence.

"You won't even give me a chance!" Enzo exploded. "And don't think I don't know about you fu—,"

"Daddy!" Braylon interrupted and threw himself at Enzo who was a little flummoxed to say the least.

Bonnie rolled her eyes. She hated this situation. Hated the fact Braylon's opinion and love for his father wasn't convoluted and filled with resentment and bitterness like hers were. He was so blissfully ignorant and devoted to his father, Enzo could do no wrong in Braylon's too-trusting and innocent eyes. No, she didn't want to tarnish her son's image of his father, but she definitely wanted to clue him in on something's and warn him not to get too attached. But she knew it wasn't her place. Enzo, unfortunately, had parenting rights and Bonnie couldn't override them simply because he fucked up a few hundred times, and broke her heart.

"So what do you say?"

Enzo's accented voice broke into Bonnie's thoughts. She stared at the two men in her life with a furrowed brow. "What?"

"Braylon wants to know if I can come along to get ice cream."

Narrowing her gaze at her ex, Bonnie reluctantly looked at her expectant son. Just like Enzo to manipulate the situation and if she said no, it would paint her as the bad guy.

"Fine," Bonnie agreed through gritted teeth. "I need to drop this off in my room. Do you have a car seat in your truck or do you need to borrow mine?"

"I finally got one," Enzo announced with pride as if he built an amusement park for his offspring.

_Only took you two years to get one. _"Give me five minutes," Bonnie muttered and headed up to her bedroom.

During the short reprieve, more than anything Bonnie wished it were Robb holding Braylon in his arms placing that smile on her son's face. That was her dream. Enzo was her reality. Robb hadn't officially met Braylon. He had seen pictures, and listened to Bonnie's stories about the best part of her.

Despite that information it was all second-hand knowledge which only made the disconnect more prominent. Braylon might as well have been a unicorn to Robb, yet Bonnie had been adamant in keeping her personal life separate from her home life. She wouldn't expose her son to every man she dated knowing they probably wouldn't want to stick around for long after discovering she was a single mom. Not like it was uncommon these days, but if a man she was interested in had his own kids and baby mother—sometimes plural—to deal with the last thing he was looking for was an additional mouth to feed.

But should she settle? Go with what was familiar although it choked her? Did nothing but bring her misery? Bonnie knew she didn't love Enzo yet at the end of the day Braylon was her number one concern. Not her heart. Not her loins. However, why should she sacrifice being happy to live a lie?

Shaking her head, Bonnie changed clothes slipping out of her maxi dress into ripped jeans, a plain white T-shirt, and her Coach sneakers.

"It's just ice cream," Bonnie reminded herself and bolted down the stairs, stopping long enough to tell Mrs. Carrington about the change in plans who didn't look too thrilled about Enzo's interference, but ultimately held her peace about it. She didn't like him, either.

"Be careful," Mrs. Carrington cautioned and handed Bonnie's Braylon's Elmo book bag filled with his essentials. "Some men know exactly which weakness to appeal to."

"I know. That's what got me in this situation in the first place," Bonnie said shortly and walked out the door.

One of these days she was going to be one of those women who had it all. The love of her life, a real father to her son, a thriving career, and an endless supply of happiness. Today just wasn't that day.

The phone in her hand began ringing. Robb was calling.

Bonnie answered but said nothing.

"Bonnie?" Robb waited for her to say something. He could hear her walking and decided to just say what was on his heart and on his tongue from the moment Bonnie left his hotel room.

"I meant what I said. I know you want to do what you believe is right for your son, and…maybe it is…but I'm never going to stop wanting you. Loving you. Whatever you chose, I'll be there for you. Friend. Lover. Confidant. Whatever you need. Say you believe me."

Bonnie gripped the handle and opened the passenger side door of Enzo's Range Rover. She ignored Enzo's probing gaze. She knew he was trying to figure out who she was talking to.

Snapping on her seat belt, Bonnie finally responded. "I believe you."

Ending her call, she waited for Enzo to fire up the engine and pull out of the driveway. They just sat.

"What?" Bonnie turned to face him.

"That was him wasn't it?"

"I agreed you could take us out for ice cream. Not interrogate me about my phone calls. Can we go please?"

Enzo started the engine, "He's wasting his time. I plan to get you back, Bonnie. The _right _way."

Whatever, Bonnie thought dejectedly.

The end.

**A/N: And so there you have it. This does bring up several questions I'm sure lots of women and some men have had to ask themselves. Marry the person you made a child with versus being with the person you actually love. What would you do? And do you think Bonnie's making the right or wrong decision in being open to marring Enzo for Braylon's sake? Thank you so much for reading! I don't know which pairing is up next, I'll let the muse dictate. Until next time. XOXO**


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